Far From Home
by tikitorches
Summary: The war is over and most of the students are back for their eighth year. Harry should be content with his life, but he is not and neither is Draco.
1. Chapter 1

_Young Draco Malfoy stood in the back of Madam Malkin's robe-shop, when the door opened with a _ring_ of the bell above and the elderly witch left him standing on the footstool to welcome the newest customer, her co-worker still pinning up his new robes._

_After the saleswoman had finished her usual phrases, she led the newcomer in the back of the shop and stood the boy next to him on a stool before beginning to pin his robes as well._

_Draco let his gaze wonder about the boy interestedly. He had messy black hair which hung him into his bright green eyes and wore sluiced-down, much too big muggle-clothes. He was a bit smaller than himself and the lenses of his broken glasses were dirty. _

_Anyway, the boy was the first other child Draco had ever met who was not presorted by his parents and he looked nice, regardless of his apparent poverty._

_'Hullo,' he said, 'Hogwarts, too?'_

_'Yes,' came the hesitant answer._

_'My father's next door, buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?'_

_The boy looked at him with a funny expression, before shaking his head: 'No.'_

_'Play Quidditch at all?'_

_'No.'_

_Draco started to wonder if he really was so bad at this. Why didn't the boy say anything at all, he wondered and started speaking again: '_I_ do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?'_

_'No,' the other said again, blushing._

_'Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?'_

_'Mmmm,' came the answer and Draco frowned. _

_When he looked around for any clue of what other he could say, he saw a giant man standing outside the shop window._

_'I say, look at that man!' he spat, happy for the distraction. He really couldn't think of any other thing to say._

_'That's Hagrid,' said the boy suddenly, 'he works at Hogwarts.'_

_Happy over a whole sentence from the other kid, Draco nodded. 'Oh, I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?'_

_'He's the gamekeeper.'_

_'Yes, exactly,' he chuckled, 'I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.'_

_'I think he's brilliant,' said the boy. _

_'Do you?' Draco couldn't hold the disbelief out of his voice when he realised the giant was the boys escort. 'Why is he with you? Where are your parents?'_

_'They're dead.'_

_'Oh, sorry,' he said. That was probably not the best topic, either. 'But they were our kind, weren't they?'_

_'They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean.' Ah, there was the new suggestion. If he was a pureblood, there shouldn't be a problem._

_'I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?'_

_The other had paled visibly and Draco wondered what he had said now, but before he could get an answer Madam Malkin spoke up._

_'That's you done, my dear,' she said and the boy hopped down from the footstool._

_'Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,' Draco said hopefully when he got no answer. Why had he ordered so many robes? He really wanted to get to know this boy with his weird behaviour. It was a welcome change to the yea-sayer he knew._

_He would have enough time to befriend him when they were at Hogwarts. There was nothing that could go wrong about that, was there?_

* * *

><p>'Watch were you're going, golden boy,' Draco spat. Oh, how he despised him. Since Potter had defeated the dark lord, he was more a prick than he ever had been. No offense, Draco secretly was glad the reign of the crazy dark bastard had found an end before anything worse could happen to him or his family, but he would never say it out loud, let alone praise scarhead for his heroic deeds.<p>

'What now, Malfoy? Suddenly found your voice even without your bodyguards around?' The Weasel. If he despised someone more than Potter, it surely was the redhead.

Draco rolled his eyes: 'What are you going to do? Let your girlfriend hex me? Or maybe Potter here wants to do you the favor. I heard he gets away with everything these days, since he saved all your ridiculous arses."

Harry raised his head, looking the blonde in the eye. He was right and also he was the first to acknowledge that in front of him out loud. The airy indifference the teachers wore when Harry did something wrong or even deserved a detention freaked him out a lot. There was not one day since they arrived back at Hogwarts for their eighth year on which there wasn't someone pampering him. There were still younger students coming to him to congratulate and praise him. Harry shivered – he had never wanted any of this!

When their eyes locked, he looked away. 'Let him be, Ron,' he said and left them standing there.

'Harry!' Ron cried, but he didn't look back. He didn't need any more reasons to fight and get away with it. He just wanted to be a normal student. A teenager for once in his life!

'Where were you?' asked Hermione, when they met her minutes later in the library.

'We stumbled upon Malfoy,' Ron answered after bending down to plant a kiss on her lips.

Hermione's smile faded instantly: 'What did he do?'

'Nothing!' Harry tossed in. 'We nearly collided and he didn't find it funny.'

'He should be kissing your feet after what you did for him!'

'No, Ron! That's exactly what I don't want!'

'But Harry, you saved him from many years in Azkaban. I think Ron is right!' Hermione frowned.

'I didn't do it for him or for my pleasure in knowing he _owse_ me! I'm perfectly fine with him being the prick he always has been.'

He had unintentionally raised his voice, only realising it when Madam Pince rounded the corner. The old witch pinched her eyes together, scanning the room and when she saw them standing around the nearest table, a smile spread across her lips. 'Oh, dear. It's just you,' she said and turned around to go back to her workplace.

'Did you see that?' Harry asked in a whisper, voice high.

'You can't expect them to act in any other way, Harry. You are the wizarding worlds hero. I know that freaks you out, but I understand them also. They are _grateful_!' Hermione tried.

Harry huffed. She was right, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. He was tired of being the chosen one, the boy who lived, part of the golden trio. He knew he could get everything he wanted and that didn't make him in any way happy. He just was not that person. He wanted to get what he earned himself and not what others thought was due.

Draco sighed, when he sat on the black leather couch in the Slytherin common room. He was surrounded by other students, but nobody would talk to him or spare him a glance. Most of them hated him because nearly everyone had lost at least one person from their family to Azkaban and Draco, although he was a former deatheater too, sat among them. The tiny rest of them avoided him just because they didn't want to be an outsider as well.

He didn't implicitly care, he thought first, but that was a lie.

Later that week, the eighth years who had made it into the N.E.W.T.s class had Potions together. After Severus Snape's death, they had still Slughorn as teacher and Draco wasn't at all amazed that Potter had made it into the class too. It was no secret that the potions master loved him from head to toe even before his triumph.

He couldn't help but feel jealous. He himself had never received an invitation to one of those parties the teacher regularly hosted for his dearest students. The old dork didn't even look at his potions and Draco could with proud say that his were always the best. Except for when Potter cheated again, but nobody would believe that anyway. Draco just _knew_ that he did.

'Move on, move on. I'ld like you to split in pairs. No Miss Granger, same-gender pairs please, we have a special potion today.'

Draco groaned. Why on earth had he to partner with someone? He glanced around and rolled his eyes. The few Slytherin students wouldn't want anyway, maybe he should pick one of the two Hufflepuffs, he thought but was interrupted by someone taking the place next to him.

'Potter?' He wasn't serious, was he?

'Yes,' answered the boy while arranging his utensils on the table.

Draco frowned and pinched his eyes together: 'Is this some kind of a joke?'

The other boy sighed and turned around, looking at him with tired eyes. 'Look, Malfoy,' he said, 'I really want just one hour for me.'

'You're not for you! You're here, with _me_!'

Harry chuckled to himself when he saw Malfoy gesticulate wildly. He didn't understand and Harry wasn't going to tell him that he was looking for someone who was _not_ worshipping him. If he couldn't work with Hermione he would work with Malfoy. That he was sure of the second Slughorn had pronounced that he had to pick a guy.

'Do you hear me?' the blonde asked that second.

'I'm not changing places.'

'I can't have you here, boy wonder. I have a reputation to defend.' Malfoy glared.

'Oh, yes. Wait... no, you've not!'

'Are you fucking with me, Potter?'

'Uh, no Malfoy, I can't see that happen.' To his amazement, the boy next to him blushed furiously.

'Whatever!' he spat halfheartedly and turned his attention to Slughorn who was listing the ingredients on the blackboard.

The potion they were working on was some memorie-charm Harry didn't really understand. Or maybe he was just not interested enough. He had never been very fond of the subject and since he couldn't use Snape's book anymore, he wasn't any good at it either.

To the majority of the double-lesson he just did what Malfoy told him to do. The blonde hadn't looked at him once so absorbed was he in the progress of brewing this potion. Harry wondered how someone could like it so much. He didn't even get praise for his efforts.

'Are you done staring at me, Potter?' Malfoy's voice startled him.

'Sorry. Do you need me to catch anything from the storeroom?'

'No! And really, please hate me again!'

'I'm done with the hating.'

'What? I think I didn't hear you correctly!'

'I'm done with it!'

Malfoy made a funny _pfff_-sound and stirred the potion again.

Harry raised an eyebrow: 'What does that mean?'

Done with the hating, Draco thought and snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

'Malfoy!'

'Why are you here, Potter? No change to cheat anymore? Are you needing me for your grades?'

'What? How... I didn't...'

'Don't tell me you didn't cheat, because I _know_!'

When he turned around to face him again, he saw the git actually grinning.

'Fine, I cheated in sixth year, you're right,' he said.

'So?'

'I don't need you for my grades. He'll give me better marks than I deserve, anyway.'

That was probably true, Draco thought.

'I want my freedom. I'm not enjoying the attention, if you haven't noticed by now.'

'Please,' he said, but deep down he knew that it was true. Potter had never wanted any of the praise he got. One more thing that disgusted Draco greatly. How could someone not take advantage of such a situation? He certainly would!

'It's true.'

'I don't care.'


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

'Harry! Where have you been?'

Harry looked around the Gryffindor common room and realised with discomfort, that it was full to the bursting point. With one more year to fit in, there had been not much free room from the beginning, but it had never been this full before. Gryffindors from class one to eight were standing and sitting everywhere.

Harry searched the room and made his fellow eighth years out in a small space by the fireplace. Seamus, who had called him, was actually sprawled out along the sofa as if he was the king of Gryffindor. Harry chuckled by the sight of it and walked over to them. Maybe this wasn't all too bad.

'Sit down, my friend,' ordered Dean, while shoving him a butterbeer into his hand.

'Were _have_ you been?' asked Hermione.

'Out,' he answered vaguely.

'There is no need to hide, you know?' said Ron. But in exactly that moment came a small voice from behind the group:

'Harry Potter!' Harry turned around, being slightly reminded of the tone in which Dobby had always said his name. A shiver ran down his spine.

Four second years stood in front of him, glancing up with wide eyes.

'Oh, that can't be true! Away with you, we're having a grown-ups meeting here!' Seamus told them with a waving motion of his hand as if the little Gryffindors were some insects.

Harry felt instantly bad for them, but Dean and Ron broke out laughing and nearly fell off the sofas armrests they were sitting on. The poor children turned and ran away and Hermione sighed: 'Really now, Seamus? They are just curious!'

'No reason to hunt him down everywhere he goes! Have no fear, Harry, we'll take care of it,' answered the irish boy smirking.

'Well, Seamus, I don't know if this is the best...' Harry started, but Neville interrupted him:

'Let us do you some good, damn it! Now shut up and drink your butterbeer!'

Hermione rolled her eyes but was smiling and Dean, Seamus and Ron giggled like schoolgirls: 'Cheers!'

At least his classmates didn't act any different, Harry thought and took a sip from the bottle in his hand.

Three hours later, it was well past curfew, Hermione and Parvati said their goodbyes and left in the direction of their dormitory. The common room had cleared and there were, except from two seventh years sitting by the bookshelves, no other students left.

Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville grinned at one another and Harry frowned: 'What?'

'Care for some teenage fun?' Seamus waggled with his eyebrows.

'Oh no, I'll go and get some sleep,' Harry answered hastily, but Ron and Neville had him already grabbed by his upper arms.

'You need fun and you will get it,' Seamus told him. 'Dean, get the brooms.'

And before he could say much more, Dean was returning with all five of their brooms, clutching them to his chest for dear life while struggling to make it down the last steps of the staircase. 'Help me already,' he whined and Seamus grabbed two brooms.

'Flying, really? It's dark!'

'We know, Harry. The darker the better. Did you never fly by night?' Dean asked.

Harry frowned. 'Not for fun,' he said. He could remember too well the flight from Privet Drive to the burrow. That hadn't been fun in any way.

'I can't believe it!' Neville clutched his hand to his forehead and Ron laughed. Neville had never been the best flyer, but he had improved and had found his bliss in doing so. He even took part in the Quidditch games which they organized from time to time, just for the fun of it.

They didn't have to walk very long. Dean had let them to one of the little bridges inbetween the towers of the castle and Harry sighed when the cool night air got to him. He stared down at the grounds, letting his gaze wonder over the scene in front of him. The moon was nearly full by this time of the month and it reflected brightly in the unmoving water of the great lake. From time to time there was a shadow of a creature above the forbidden forest, which Harry thought had to be thestrals. The little light at the foot of the forest told him that Hagrid hadn't gone to sleep just yet.

'Come on, Harry. It's fun!' Ron interrupted his thoughts and he turned around. The others were already standing over their brooms, Ron holding Harry's Firebolt in his hands, waving it slightly so he would grab it.

'Fine,' he answered, taking it. And then they took off.

Harry hadn't flown for what felt like ages, he realised. Everyone had been so happy about the victory and there had been so a lot of parties and trials, that he had been lucky when he could have some time for himself, locked up in Ron's room in the rebuild burrow. Now he felt the cool air rush past him and he quickly gained speed, pushing his beloved broom to its very limits. He heard the faint shouts and laughs of his fellow Gryffindors, but he couldn't care less. Falling into a downwards spiral he yanked himself up just inches from the ground and kept on racing over the dark grounds.

Draco leaned casually on the railing of the astronomy tower, watching the Gryffindors having their fun. He couldn't help the grin that spread on his lips when he saw Potter going wild on his broom. Draco loved flying himself, but he hadn't had the opportunity between being stuck in a cell in the ministry, trials and finally trying to manage to go back to normal life with his mother in the manor.

He sighed, since he was back at Hogwarts he was wandering around nearly every night. The sleep loss made him jumpy and stressed him out, but he couldn't close his eyes without seeing all of the horrible things he had gone through. Beginning with the first time he had met the dark lord, over several punishments he had received for his family's errors, ending with his father's death by the dementor's kiss.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wonder. How could he ever live a normal life!

The next day brought the realisation that it was not beneficial for classes to fly through nearly all night. Harry had a hard time getting up and by the time there was only double-potions left, he was struggling to keep awake. He didn't even complain when Slughorn instructed them once more to split in the former pairs. He sunk yawning into his seat and layed his heat on his arms.

'If you think I'll work alone and let you have the praise, you're wrong,' came the drawling voice from next to him and he smirked, eyes still closed.

'I'm not in the mood, Malfoy.'

'I know, I saw you last night.'

He jumped, raising his head, eyes wide: 'What?'

'I saw you flying.'

'Are you spying on me?' He was more then uncomfortable with that thought.

But Malfoy shook his head: 'Do you think you are the only one neglecting the rules? I was walking around the castle myself.'

Harry groaned.

'Anyway, I saw you flying and realised I haven't done that for a real long time. How about a seeker's game? Just you and me,' Draco suggested. He wouldn't admit that he hadn't anyone he could fly with and Potter was easy enough to lure into a competition. Plus he would've someone to talk to just once. He was becoming desperate for any kind of attention.

'A seeker's game?' the Gryffindor asked, puzzled.

'Don't tell me you never had one.'

'No... how does it work?'

He grinned, due to Potter's ignorance. 'Really, can't you tell? It's two seekers and the snitch. It's quite inspiring. Lots of speed and all about skills, without any distraction.'

'Sounds awesome!' admitted the other and Draco grinned even wider.

'What about tomorrow morning? It's weekend then and you can rest your famous arse before loosing against the superior.'

Harry laughed: 'You wish! Eight?'

'Seven!'

'Fine.'

'Harry,' Ron mumbled into his pillow and Harry stopped dead in his tracks, 'where are you going?'

'Library?' Harry tried and his friend yawned sleepily, grabbed his alarm clock and peeked an eye open.

'It's Saturday! And... Merlin... six thirty? Why are you even awake?'

Harry chuckled. Ron was such a late riser! 'Fine, I want to practise,' he answered, grabbing his broom from the trunk he was standing in front of.

'You're not in the team this year. You didn't want to, remember?'

'Can't I have some fun?'

'Oh, fine. Just go, I'll get some more sleep.'

He grinned and started out the door. The walk down to the Quidditch pitch took him not as long as usual. He was walking quite fast and the fresh morning air sparked his senses, letting him feel a jolt of excitement. He couldn't wait for the game to begin. Flying was one thing, flying to win was another.

Draco was already standing outside the changing rooms, fully dressed in his worn silver-green seekers robes. 'Potter! Finally!' he said, frowning.

'It's not even seven yet,' Harry answered. 'You kept your robes?'

'Sure. Me not playing for the team anymore doesn't say I want to ruin my clothes.'

Harry chuckled: 'I'll change too, wait a minute.'

He had Malfoy never taken for someone who actually cared for such things, but even when he didn't admit it, Harry was sure the reason for keeping the robes was the same emotional one he had for keeping his. He had known the boy for eight years, after all.

Malfoy was already on his broom when Harry exited the rooms. He was flying at the stands height, whirling around the goals in a flash of green and silver.

'Malfoy!' he called and the blonde slowed down immediately.

'Potter! What are you waiting for? Get your bloody Gryffindor arse up here!' he called back. Harry grinned and swung one leg over his Firebolt, pushing up into the air with a swift movement.

'How is this going to work?' he asked, when he hovered next to the Slytherin in the air.

'I have the snitch here,' Malfoy said, holding the little golden ball into the air whichs wings instantly began to flutter, 'it's an enchanted one. It's going slower until at least one of the seekers got a glimps of it. They are exclusively for seekers games, so we don't have to search forever.'

'Okay,' he nodded. Why hadn't told him anyone? This was so cool!

'Ready?' Malfoy smirked and Harry nodded. The snitch wirled around the air the moment the grip around it had loosened and it dashed away the next second, both boys chasing after it in an instant.

Draco pushed his Nimbus forward, he would show Potter that a better broom didn't mean better skills. He tried hard to get the upper hand with the slower broom, shortening the chase every opportunity he saw. The snitch kept changing directions, leading them around the stands. Potter laughed and Draco felt the adrenaline spreading through his every fibre when they raced downwards, side by side. When he realised the snitch wouldn't change his course in time for him to follow, he raised his broom into a horizontal position, swearing. Potter, who's broom had the better responsiveness, closed his hand around the golden snitch with a shout of triumph, ripping the brooms handle up in the last second possible. Draco scowled.

'Who's the superior now, Malfoy, huh?' he asked, coming to a halt next to him.

'Repeat!' he demanded and the idiot grinned at him sheepishly.

'You would've won, you know that, do you? You were first.'

'But I haven't, so I don't care! Don't start with your fucking Gryffindor fairness!'

'Fine, repeat!' Potter shrugged and released the ball.

They started over and over and when they finally had enough, Harry had won nine to five. He couldn't help but admire the Slytherins outcome, even when the other complained over his loss. Harry knew his broom was faster and better and he hadn't flown as good as Malfoy had. He wondered who would win if they had equal equipment.

They walked alongside one another towards the castle, both still in their robes, sweat-soaked and dirty from several nearly collisions. Malfoys blond wisps hung loose into his bright grey eyes. He turned his gaze towards Harry when he saw him looking. 'What?' he asked.

Harry laughed: 'I think we need a shower!'

'Definitely!' he laughed too. 'What about another game? Tomorrow?'

Harry didn't think about it very long. He hadn't had so much fun in months. 'Sure. Same time, same place?'

The Slytherin nodded eagerly and Harry grinned.

I'm playing nice with Potter, Draco thought. He flinched inwardly, but couldn't bring himself to find it as bad as he probably should. On the other hand, the war was over and what was the sense in them fighting, anyway?

They parted in the entrance hall, Potter heading for the stairs up whilst Draco stared after him before taking the once which led down towards the dungeons. Weird!


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much, **hPdC** and **ameranthus13**, for the two very first reviews on this fanfiction, I'm really proud that you liked it so far!_

Chapter 3

'Out of the way, Malfoy!'

'You wish, Potter!'

They were racing shoulder to shoulder again, the snitch barely visible in the settling darkness of the day. They had met regularly over the last two weeks. Not wanting to stop after the first weekend, they had started to meet in the evenings when everyone else had already settled down in the common rooms. The seeker games did Draco much good. He was so exhausted, he would sleep instantly when his body touched the sheets. He didn't even had nightmares that much anymore. His dreams were full of Quidditch, brooms and the marvellous high from flying full speed next to his opponent.

'Hah!' he cried, when he felt his fingers close around the snitch. Stumbling onto the ground, he raised his arm: 'Win!'

Potter came down beside him, patting his back. 'Quite a good one, Malfoy,' he admitted.

'Rematch?' Draco asked, but the Gryffindor shook his head.

'It's already too dark, lets quit for today.' He walked over to the changing rooms and fall down on one of the benches next to the pitch, whiping some sweat from his forehead.

'Fine.' Draco shrugged and sat down next to him. They were silent for several minutes, before Potter spoke up:

'How are you coping?'

'What do you mean?' Draco asked, immediately suspicious. It wasn't as if they hadn't talked during the past days, but the question sounded wrong and Potter appeared reserved.

'Don't! I just want to now... are you getting along? With the others?'

'Oh, don't start! I'm not crying on your shoulder, Potter!' What did he even think?

'Why can't we speak like...'

'Friends? 'Cause we're not!' he growled and stood up, ready to go.

'Maybe I want to be,' he heard him say and turned around once more.

'You don't! You didn't want it eight years ago and I won't start _now_!'

'What?' Harry asked, stunned. What was Malfoy talking about?

'Don't you tell me you forgot! But what am I to you, huh? I should've thought so much!'

'Are you talking about that incident on the train?'

'No you idiot! I'm talking about Madam Malkins!'

'Oh,' he said, 'you can't tell me you did that for yourself. I'm well aware that your father would've loved to see us become friends.'

Draco's blood boiled and he clenched his jaw. 'Fuck you! I didn't even now who you were! It's always about my family, isn't it? The great Harry Potter can't just become friends with someone like me!'

Potter flinched: 'I told you, I want to become friends!'

'But I wanted it eight years ago!'

The Gryffindor stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide. He had come to his feet somewhere along the argument, too. Draco could literally see how his brain was working.

'Forget what I said,' he told him and turned around, but was stopped by Potter grabbing his robe's sleeve. When he turned once more, the other was looking stricken.

'I'm sorry. I didn't know that you... I thought your father made you do it. And I didn't like you back then, anyway,' he told him, smirking a bit.

'That's making it better.'

'I want to now, Malfoy.' Harry locked eyes with the blonde in front of him, trying to show that he was indeed serious. He had to admit that he never had seen it this way. He'd disliked the boy immediately and while growing older he had accepted the encounter as some calculated scheme of his father.

The Slytherin hesitated and Harry wasn't sure if he would accept or just run away, so he spoke again: 'I'm sorry for what happened through all this years. Had I known then what I know now, it wouldn't have happened.'

'Oh fine, stop the whining, Potter.' Malfoy grabbed his hand to shake it and rolled his eyes as if it hadn't been a rather serious conversation. Prick, thought Harry.

'Friends?'

'Yeah.'

Later that evening, Harry sat in one of the armchairs in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He couldn't quite believe it. He was friends with Draco Malfoy. Finally a step in the right direction, he thought. He wanted the rivalry to stop, he hadn't died so the wizarding community could go down again and that was what would happen when it went on as it did now. As hard as he wanted for that to be the only reason – it was not. He wanted to be friends with the Slytherin. He had found that he liked him a lot. Not the snarky, spoiled boy he had grown up with, but the sentimental, funny man that boy had become. If someone had told him a few weeks ago, he would've laughed.

'Harry!' Hermione came over to him, several other students turned their heads in her direction when they heard her shout.

'Hi Hermione,' he answered smiling.

She sat down next to him and frowned. 'What is this all about? We never see you and I overheard some fifth-years speaking about how you and Malfoy would _rock the pitch_.' She rolled her eyes due to the saying. 'You're not fighting, are you?'

He laughed. 'We play Quidditch.'

'I know. Ron heard of it, he was quite grumpy about you flying with Malfoy instead of him. Why is that, anyway?'

'We are friends.'

'Friends,' she repeated, looking torn.

'I know I don't spend much time with you and you probably hate me for preferring Malfoy over you, but...' He tried to think of anything that wouldn't sound mean, but he couldn't find a single excuse. 'It's easy with him, you know? He doesn't ask questions about what happened in the war and nobody would ever approach me with him there. Heck, I didn't even know there were others who have seen us play!'

'You don't need to hide and you know the others wouldn't let them approach you too, if you'ld say so.'

'But that's the difference. I don't have to tell them to stay away, because they wouldn't even try.'

'That's sad.'

'And I like him,' he heard himself say after the strange feeling that he just had to justify his decision some more.

'And you don't like us anymore?'

'Oh Hermione, I know that you don't mean that.'

She huffed: 'You know me to well. But Harry, please promise me you will come back to us. Even if you bring him.'

'You would be okay with that?'

She bit her lip and then sighed: 'Yes. You forget that we know what happened! You told us how Dumbledore trusted him, how you found him in that bathroom and how he lowered his wand. We saw for ourselfs how he refused to identify you at Malfoy manor, even when he knew for sure because of us being there. And you told us what his mother did and Harry – I _saw_ him at the final battle! He wouldn't have gone over to Voldemort if it hadn't been for his parents begging him to do so.'

'I thought...,' he began, but Hermione interrupted him:

'That we would still hate him? Ron isn't cheery about it and neither am I, but we understand your intentions. He has nobody, all the Slytherins hate him, even a few teachers avoid him.'

Harry frowned. He had never imagined that his friends would actually be okay with Malfoy being there. What would the blonde say if he asked him to join them... for what? Having tea and cookies in the Gryffindor common room? He chuckled and shook his head. No way the Slytherin would ever commit to that!

'I'm glad you found something that cheers you up, at least,' Hermione said.

'Quidditch always cheered me up.'

She nodded and smiled: 'I know.'

'You want me to... what?' Malfoy asked, when they met the next morning at the Quidditch pitch. It was Sunday and despite the early hour, the sun was already warming the air. It would become hot today.

'I want you to meet the others,' Harry answered, even when he knew Malfoy had understood quite well.

'And do what?'

'Hang out.'

'Hang out?!' the other repeated, baffled.

'Oh, come on now, Malfoy. It's worth a try, you have nothing to do, anyway.'

Malfoy snorted and whiped some strands of hair out of his eyes. 'You must be kidding me,' he said, glaring at Harry.

What did the Gryffindor even think? Draco eyed him curiously. Hadn't he agreed to be friends with the boy just yesterday? Maybe it hadn't been that good a decision when he now would be dragged in some cuddly Gryffindor fanclub.

'I'ld like you to think about it,' said Potter and pushed off the ground, racing with maximum speed towards the goal posts.

Two hours later it appeared that he wasn't going to have that much of a choice. A catcall broke them out of their match and when Draco looked down he saw a bunch of Gryffindors, brooms and all.

'Hey, may we join?' Weasley called and Potter grinned immediately, but looked at Draco for permission.

He growled and looked back to the curious boys on the ground. 'You think you can beat me, Weasel?' he asked finally, sounding smug.

He saw Longbottom grin broadly, the others chuckled and Weasley pursed his lips. When they left to change, Potter flow slowly over, ending up hovering next to him in the air.

'Thank you,' he said and smiled.

'Shit, Longbottom! Are you insane?' barked Seamus who had raised his broom around in the last second before the bludger flew passed him.

'Sorry,' answered Neville who had shrieked before hitting the bludger away from himself, regardless of the direction.

'I'm _in_ your team, you know?' growled Seamus and Draco, who was hovering several metres above his head, nearly fell off his broom from laughing so hard. 'It's your team too!' Seamus spat, peaking upwards. Harry smiled. Maybe, if they could do this more often, the boys would manage this quite well.

'Harry!' Deans cry made him wince, his gaze darting around. Malfoy was racing head down towards the ground, hand already outstretched in front of his body. Harry raced after him, but knew immediately that he wouldn't make it in time and when Malfoy's hand closed over the tiny, fluttering ball, the other boys of his team cheered loudly. Harry couldn't quite believe it, when he saw Seamus and Neville stumble onto the ground just seconds after Malfoy. They grabbed him and patted him on the back, praising him. And the blonde didn't look as if he minded much.

'Good game,' said Harry, after landing himself.

'We _lost_!' cried Dean and Ron, but Harry wasn't willing to mourn that right now.

After the cheers had ebbed away, the boys decided to quit for the day.

'It's lunch-time, anway,' had Ron said and Neville had shaken his head. After a quick shower in the changing rooms, and it nearly had felt as if they were in the schools Quidditch team again, they ran up to the castle, still debating over the game. Their ways parted in the great hall, since Draco insisted on sitting at the Slytherin table. Harry had been more then shocked, when Ron of all people had asked him to sit with them.

By the time lunch was over and they were back in the Gryffindor common room, the girls had listened intently to the boy's chatter about the game and how Malfoy had kicked Harry's balls. Hermione was smiling when she looked over to him and Harry grinned.

'You told them!' he accused her later that evening, when she sat down next to him. 'You told them we were at the pitch again!'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Oh, you... it doesn't matter. Thanks, anyway.' She smirked and leaned against his shoulder.

Draco lay on his bed that evening, reading a book about potions, or rather trying to. He couldn't believe how he'd had a great time with the Gryffindorks. He wouldn't have believed it, had him someone told a few weeks ago, that he would play with them in the _same_ team. Longbottom had been more of a punishment then a help, of course. And Finnigan spoke in that awfully slurred voice, but anyway, it had been fun. A long time had passed since he'd had actually fun with the other Slytherins. In reality, he didn't even know if he'd had such fun with them at all. Slytherins weren't all too cheery about such games. Even less when they were playing against their own housemates. Where was the competition there? Anyway, he had somehow played against an other house. It didn't count that his team mates were in said house, did it? He sighed and put the book on his nightstand. Who was he to lie to himself? It didn't matter actually. There was no more house rivalry, at least that was what the headmistress wanted to let it seem like. He snorted. Stupid, old witch! No Slyterhin would ever let the rivalry rest!

He let himself fall backwards onto the cushions, closing his eyes.


End file.
